_General Array of Knights ... Companions in Arms ... The Nature of a
Cavalier's Valiancy ... Singular Bravery of Sir Robert Knowles ...
Bravery incited by Vows ... Fantastic Circumstances ... The Humanities
of Chivalric War ... Ransoming ... Reason of Courtesies in Battles ...
Curious Pride of Knighthood ... Prisoners ... Instance of Knightly
Honour ... Independence of Knights, and Knight Errantry ... Knights
fought the Battles of other Countries ... English Knights dislike Wars
in Spain ... Their Disgust at Spanish Wines ... Principles of their
active Conduct ... Knightly Independence consistent with Discipline
... Religion of the Knight ... His Devotion ... His Intolerance ...
General Nature of his Virtue ... Fidelity to Obligations ...
Generousness ... Singular Instance of it ... Romantic excess of it ...
Liberality ... Humility ... Courtesy ..._ EVERY DAY LIFE OF THE KNIGHT
_... Falconry ... Chess playing ... Story of a Knight's Love of Chess
... Minstrelsy ... Romances ... Conversation ... Nature and Form of
Chivalric Entertainments ... Festival and Vow of the Pheasant._
[Sidenote: General array of knights.]
The knight was accompanied into the field by his squires and pages, by his
armed vassals on horseback and on foot, all bearing his cognisance. The
number of these attendants varied necessarily with his estate, and also
the occasion that induced him to arm; and I should weary, without
instructing my readers, were I to insert in these volumes all the petty
details of history regarding the amount of force which in various
countries, and in different periods of the same country's annals,
constituted, to use the phraseology of the middle ages, the complement of
a lance. Armies were reckoned by lances, each lance meaning the knight
himself with his men-at-arms, or lighter cavalry, and his foot soldiers.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Companions in arms.]
The knight was not only supported by his vassals, who formed the furniture
of his lance, but by his brother in arms, when such an intercourse
subsisted between two cavaliers; and instances of such unions are
extremely frequent in chivalric history: they may be met with in other
annals. In the early days of Greece, brotherhood in arms was a well-known
form of friendship: the two companions engaged never to abandon each other
in affairs however perilous, and in pledge of their mutual faith they
exchanged armour. No stronger proof of affection could be given than thus
parting with what they held most dear. Among barbarous people the
fraternity of arms was established by the horrid custom of the new
brothers drinking each other's blood: but if this practice was barbarous,
nothing was farther from barbarism than the sentiment which inspired it.
The chivalry of Europe borrowed this sacred bond from the Scandinavians,
among whom the future brothers in arms mingled their blood, and then
tasted it.
"Father of slaughter, Odin, say,
Rememberest not the former day,
When ruddy in the goblet stood,
For mutual drink, our blended blood?
Rememberest not, thou then dids't swear,
The festive banquet ne'er to share,
Unless thy brother Lok was there?"[133]
This custom, like most others of Pagan Europe, was corrected and softened
by the light and humanity of religion. Fraternal adoptions then took place
in churches, in presence of relations, and with the sanction of priests.
The knights vowed that they would never injure or vilify each other, that
they would share each other's dangers; and in sign of the perfection of
love, and of true unity, and in order to possess, as much as they could,
the same heart and resolves, they solemnly promised true fraternity and
companionship of arms.[134] They then received the holy sacrament, and the
priest blessed the union. It was a point rather of generous understanding
than of regular convention, that they would divide equally all their
acquisitions. Of this custom an instance may be given. Robert de Oily and
Roger de Ivery, two young gentlemen who came into England with the duke of
Normandy, were sworn brothers. Some time after the conquest, the king
granted the two great honours of Oxford, and St. Waleries, to Robert de
Oily, who immediately bestowed one of them, that of St. Waleries, on his
sworn brother, Roger de Ivery[135].
Fraternity of arms was entered into for a specific object, or general
knightly quests, for a limited term, or for life. It did not always occur,
however, that the fraternity of arms was established with religious
solemnities: but whatever might have been the ceremonies, the obligation
was ever considered sacred; so sacred, indeed, that romance writers did
not startle their readers by a tale, whose interest hangs upon the
circumstance of a knight slaying his two infant children for the sake of
compounding a medicine with their blood which should heal the leprosy of
his brother in arms.[136]
This form of attachment was the strongest tie in chivalry.
"From this day forward, ever mo
Neither fail, either for weal or wo,
To help other at need,
Brother, be now true to me,
And I shall be as true to thee."
So said Sir Amylion to Sir Amys, and it was the common language of
chivalry. Friendship was carried to the romantic extremity of the Homeric
age. Brethren in arms adopted all the enmities and loves of each other,
"A generous friendship no cold medium knows,
Burns with one love, with one resentment glows."
And so powerful was the obligation that it even superseded the duty of
knighthood to womankind. A lady might in vain have claimed the protection
of a cavalier, if he could allege that at that moment he was bound to fly
to the succour of his brother in arms.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Qualities of the chivalric character.]
Thus accompanied, the knight proceeded to achieve the high emprises of his
noble and gallant calling. Both the principles and the objects of chivalry
having been always the same, a general similarity of character existed
through all the chivalric ages; and as certain moral combinations divide
human nature into classes, so the knight was a distinct character, and the
qualities peculiar to his order may be delineated in one picture,
notwithstanding individual and national variations, which had better be
described when we come to mark the degrees of the influence of chivalry in
the different countries of Europe.
[Sidenote: The nature of their valiancy.]
[Sidenote: Singular bravery of Sir Robert Knowles.]
The courage of the knight is the part of his character which naturally
calls for our first attention. It was daring and enterprising: but I
cannot insist upon recklessness of danger as the quality of chivalry only,
for in every nation's battles, to be the first to advance and the last to
retreat have been the ambition of warriors. The knight however cared
little for the cause or necessity of his doing battle so that he could
display his valour. About the year 1370, Sir Robert Knowles marched
through France, and laid waste the country as far as the very gates of the
capital. A knight was in his company, who had made a vow that he would
ride to the walls or gates of Paris, and strike at the barriers[137] with
a spear. And for the finishing of his vow he departed from his company,
his spear in his hand, his shield suspended from his neck, armed at all
points, and mounted on a good horse, his squire following him on another,
with his helmet. When he approached Paris he put on the glittering
head-piece, and leaving his squire behind him, and dashing his spurs into
his steed, he rode at full career to the barriers which were then open.
The French lords, who were there, weened that he would have entered the
town, but that was not his mind, for when he had struck the barriers
according to his vow, he turned his rein and departed. Then the knights of
France immediately divined his purpose, and cried, "Go your way; you have
right well acquitted yourself."[138]
About the same time a band of English knights advanced to the French town
of Noyon, and spread their banners abroad, as a defiance to the garrison.
But the French made no sally; and a Scottish knight, named Sir John
Swinton, impatient of rest, departed from his company, his spear in his
hand, and mounted on a _cheval de lance_, his page behind him, and in that
manner approached the barriers. He then alighted, and saying to his page,
"Hold, keep my horse, and depart not hence," he went to the barriers.
Within the pallisades were many good knights, who had great marvel what
this said knight would do. Then Swinton said to them, "Sirs, I am come
hither to see you; as you will not issue out of your barriers, I will
enter them, and prove my knighthood against yours. Win me if you can!" He
then fought with the French cavaliers, and so skilfully, that he wounded
two or three of them; the people on the walls and the tops of the houses
remaining still, for they had great pleasure to regard his valiantness,
and the gallant knights of France charged them not to cast any missiles
against him, but to let the battle go fairly and freely forward. So long
they fought that at last the page went to the barriers, and said to his
master, "Sir, come away; it is time for you to depart, for your company
are leaving the field." The knight heard him well, and then gave two or
three strokes about him, and armed as he was he leapt over the barriers,
and vaulting upon his horse behind his faithful page, he waved his hand to
the Frenchmen, and cried, "Adieu, Sirs, I thank you." He then urged his
noble horse to speed, and rode to his own company. This goodly feat of
arms was praised by many folks.[139]
[Sidenote: Bravery incited by vows.]
This love of causeless perils was often accompanied by curious
circumstances. On the manners of the ancestors of the heroes of chivalry
it has been said,
"In the caverns of the west,
By Odin's fierce embrace comprest,
A wond'rous boy shall Rinda bear,
Who ne'er shall comb his raven hair,
Nor wash his visage in the stream,
Nor see the sun's departing beam,
Till he on Hoder's corse shall smile
Flaming on the fun'ral pile!"
[Sidenote: Fantastic circumstances.]
And king Harold made a solemn vow never to clip or comb his hair till he
should have extended his sway over the whole country. Tacitus informs us,
that the youthful Germans, particularly those among the Catti, did not
shave the hair from the head or chin until they had achieved renown in
arms. The same feeling influenced the knight of chivalry. He was wont to
wear a chain on his arm or leg until he had performed some distinguishing
exploit; and when his merit became conspicuous, the mark of thraldom was
removed with great solemnity.[140] A young knight would not at first
assume his family arms, but wore plain armour and shield without any
device till he had won renown. He would even fight blindfold, or pinion
one of his hands to his body, or in some other manner partially disable
himself from performing his deed, of arms. Before the gate of Troyes there
was an English squire, resolved to achieve some high and romantic feat.
His companions were unable to judge whether or not he could see, but with
his spear in his hand, and his targe suspended from his neck, he
recklessly spurred his horse to the barriers, leaped over them, and
careered to the gate of the town, where the Duke of Burgundy and other
great lords of France were standing. He reined round his foaming steed and
urged him back towards the camp. The duke shouted applause at his
boldness: but some surrounding men-at-arms had not the same generous
sympathy for noble chivalry, and they hurled their lances like javelins at
the brave squire, till they brought him and his horse dead to the ground,
wherewith the Duke of Burgundy was right sore displeased.[141] Equally
singular, and more fantastic, was the conduct of certain young knights of
England during the French wars of Edward III., for each of them bound up
one of his eyes with a silk ribbon, and swore before the ladies and the
peacock, that he would not see with both eyes until he had accomplished
certain deeds of arms in France.[142]
[Sidenote: The sageness of knights].
Nothing appears incredible in romances after reading these tales of a very
faithful historian; but we should wrong chivalry were we to suppose that
this wild, this phrenetic, courage was its chief character. Perhaps it was
in general the quality of young soldiers only; for discretion was
certainly a part of cavaleresque valour. That a knight was sage is
frequently said to his honour. Not, indeed, that his skill ever
degenerated into the subtlety of stratagem, for bold and open[143] battle
was always preferred to the refinements of artifice, and he would have
debased his order if he had profited by any mischance happening to his
foe. But in the choice of ground, in the disposition of his squires and
men-at-arms, he exerted his best skill, for to be adventurous was only one
part of valour. The soldier in chivalry was also imaginative, a word
constantly used by our old authors to show a mind full of resources, and
to express military abilities.[144]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Their humanities of war.]
There was not so much ruthlessness in his heroism as distinguished those
ages of the ancient world which fancy and poetry have sometimes painted
as chivalrous. The prostrate and suppliant foe seldom sued for mercy in
vain from the true knight. It was a maxim, that a warrior without pity was
without worship.[145] Even the pride of knighthood often softened the
fierce and rugged face of war, for inferior people were spared, because
they were unworthy of the lance. A knight trained to warlike exercises
cared little for a battle unless he could prove his skilful bearing; and
what honour could he gain from slaying rude and unarmed peasantry? The
simple peasant was often spared from motives of prudence. Richard
Brembrow, an English knight, was ravaging Brittany, in the year 1350, but
was reproached for his conduct by Beaumanoir, a partisan of the house of
Blois, who was astonished that a valiant cavalier should make war, not
only on men bearing arms, but on labourers and others. "In all wars guided
by chivalric principles," continued the knight of Brittany, "true soldiers
never injure the tillers of the ground; for if they were to do so, the
world would be destroyed by famine."[146] More generous feelings,
however, sometimes had their influence. The stern Du Guesclin, when on his
death-bed, desired his old companions in arms to remember that "neither
the clergy, nor women, nor children, nor poor people, were their enemies;"
and the charge came with peculiar propriety from him, for his past life
could furnish no instance of needless severity.
To show the reverse of such mildness was the unhappy fate of the Black
Prince, who, by his massacre of three thousand people at Limoges[147],
tarnished the lustre of all his former glories. The narrative of this
affair which Froissart has left us, shews that such barbarities were not
so frequent in chivalric times as modern hatred of aristocratical power
has represented. We may learn from our historian that the massacre at
Limoges proceeded from the unhappy disposition to cruelty which at that
time clouded the mind of the Prince of Wales, and not from the general
principles of chivalry; for he tells us, that the knights prepared
themselves to do evil, to slay men, women, and children, because they were
so commanded; and he whose heart leaped for joy in describing a manly
conflict, where banners and standards waved in the wind, with horses
barded, and knights and squires richly armed, yet sighs over the massacre
of Limoges, and says it was "great pity" to see the slaughter.[148] It was
only when cities that belonged to the enemies of the church were taken,
that the sword of the victorious Christian was embrued in blood to the
very hilt; for pagans, Saracens, Jews, and heretics were not considered
within the pale of the humane courtesies of chivalry.
Frequent pauses were made in the single encounters of knighthood, for
generousness was thought an essential part of bravery, and the soldier
would rather vanquish by his skill than by any accidental advantage. A
giant of the first enormity requested of his antagonist, Sir Guy of
Warwick, a momentary respite for the purpose of slaking his thirst in a
neighbouring stream. The noble knight assented to this request, and the
giant, perfectly recovered from his fatigue, renewed the combat with fresh
vigour. Sir Guy, in his turn, was oppressed by heat and fatigue, and
requested a similar favour; but the uncourteous giant refused.[149] In a
battle between the celebrated Roland and a Saracen knight, named Sir
Otuel, a stroke of the former's sword cut into the brain of his
antagonist's horse. The paladin of Charlemagne, with true chivalric
courtesy, reined in his steed, and rested on his arms till Sir Otuel had
disengaged himself from the equipments of his horse. The Saracen rallied
him for want of skill in missing his gigantic frame; but on the renewal of
the battle Otuel was guilty of a similar awkwardness, and conscious that
his raillery might now be retorted with double force, he imitated the
knightly courtesy of Roland, and waited till his foe was completely free
from his fallen steed.[150] The preliminaries of a battle between the
famous Oliver and a Saracen cavalier, hight Sir Ferumbras, was still more
courteous, for the Christian knight assisted his foe to lace his helmet,
and before they encountered, the combatants politely bowed to each
other.[151]
Veracious chroniclers confirm the stories of romance writers. In a battle
of honour between the English and French, when it was thought contrary to
chivalry for either party to be more numerous than the other, the knights
contended for several hours with intervals of repose. When any two of them
had fought so long as to be fatigued, they fairly and easily departed, and
sat themselves down by the side of a stream, and took off their helmets.
On being refreshed they donned their armour, and returned to the
fight.[152]
[Sidenote: Ransoming]
[Sidenote: Reason of courtesies in battles.]
We commonly refer to the principles of honour in chivalry to account for
the interesting fact, that a victorious knight permitted his prisoner to
go to his own country or town, in order to fetch his ransom; and we know
that his word of honour was considered a sufficient pledge for his return
at the appointed season. The true reason of this general practice of
chivalry may be learnt from a passage in Froissart. After describing a
battle between the English and French in the year 1344, he says, that the
English dealt like good companions with their prisoners; and suffered many
to depart on their oaths and promises to return again at a certain day to
Bergerac or to Bourdeaux.[153] The Scots were equally courteous to the
English after the truly chivalric battle of Otterbourn. They set them to
their ransom, and every man said to his prisoner, "Sir, go and unarm
yourself, and take your ease;" and so made their prisoners as good cheer
as if they had been brethren, without doing them any injury.[154] A short
while after the battle Sir Matthew Redman yielded himself prisoner to Sir
James Lindsay, rescue or no rescue, so that he dealt with him like a good
companion.[155] It was, therefore, because all the knights of Europe were
united in one universal bond of brotherhood, that one knight showed
courtesy to another. It was the principle of fraternity which the
Christian religion inculcates, that created all the kindly consideration
in war which distinguished chivalry; and base and barbarous, as we may
chuse to call our ancestors, I know not whether the principles of
Christian friendship were not as well understood in their days as in our
own age of boasted light and improvement. There is truth as well as beauty
in Froissart's observation, that "nobleness and gentleness ought to be
aided by nobles and gentles." Not only were prisoners released on their
parole of honour, but their ransom was never set so high that they could
not pay it at their ease, and still maintain their degree.[156]
[Sidenote: Curious pride of knighthood.]
[Sidenote: Prisoners.]
One curious particular, illustrative of knightly dignity, remains to be
mentioned. It was beneath the bearing of chivalry for a cavalier to
surrender himself prisoner to one of the raskall rout, and if he ever was
reduced to such a sad necessity he would amuse his pride by raising his
conqueror to the rank of chivalry. The Earl of Suffolk, during our wars in
France, was taken prisoner by William Renaud; but he would not surrender
to him until he had given him the accolade, bound a sword round him, and
thus dignified him with knighthood. But there was no loss of chivalric
dignity in a knight being taken prisoner by a squire, for a squire, though
inferior in rank, was of the same quality as a knight. The renowned Du
Guesclin, whom I so often mention as a pattern of chivalry, yielded to the
prowess of a squire of England who fought under the standard of Sir John
Chandos.
[Sidenote: Instance of knightly honour.]
In the course of the fourteenth century the Duke of Gueldres was taken
prisoner by a squire named Arnold, and was removed to a castle, where he
promised to pay his ransom. The lords of Prussia, hearing that the duke
had been captured in his course to their country, summoned a mighty force,
and marched to the place of the duke's confinement. The squire dreaded
their power, and resolved to quit the castle: but before his departure he
went to the Duke of Gueldres, and said to him, "Sir duke, you are my
prisoner, and I am your master: you are a gentleman and a true knight; you
have sworn and given me your faith, and whithersoever I go you ought to
follow me. I cannot tell if you have sent for the great master of Prussia
or not, but he is coming hither with a mighty power. I shall not remain:
you may tarry if you list, and I will take with me your faith and
promise." Gueldres made no answer. The squire soon afterwards mounted
horse and departed, telling the Duke that he would always find him at such
a place, naming a strong castle, in a remote situation. The Prussians soon
arrived and liberated their friend: but he resolved to perform his promise
to the squire whom he called his master, and neither absolution, nor
dispensation, nor argument, nor raillery could induce him to break his
faith. His friends and relations then treated with the squire for his
freedom, and by paying the customary ransom the Duke of Gueldres recovered
that honourable liberty of mind which above all things was dear to the
true knight.[157]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Independence of knights and knight errantry.]
Certainly the virtues of a knight were not necessarily patriotic. They
were rather calculated to weaken than to strengthen his tendencies to
king and country. Although as an individual he was bound to his native
land, yet the character of his knighthood was perpetually pressing him to
a course of conduct distinct from all national objects. He was the judge
of right and wrong[158]; he referred to no external standard of equity; he
was an independent agent. These qualities of chivalry gave birth to knight
errantry, that singular feature in the character of the middle ages.
"Long so they travell'd through wasteful ways,
Where dangers dwelt and perils most did wonne,
To hunt for glory and renowned praise:
Full many countries they did overrun,
From the uprising to the setting sun,
And many hard adventures did atchieve;
Of all the which they honour ever wonne,
Seeking the weak oppressed to relieve,
And to recover right for such as wrong did grieve."[159]
It was considered the first praise of knighthood to efface foul outrage,
and the advantages arising to society from this disposition are confessed
even by satirists.
------------"Knyghtes shoulde
Ryden and rappe adoune in remes aboute,
And to take trespassours and tye them faste.
* * * * *
Truly to take, and truly to fight,
Is the profession and the pure order that apendeth to knights."[160]
The happy consequences to woman of this chivalric principle, and its
tendencies to ameliorate manners, will best be seen in our delineation of
the character of dames and damsels in the middle ages. With respect to the
general interests of society it may be observed, that knight errantry was
a very considerable means of correcting the state of violence and misrule
in feudal times. The monks of St. Albans held a body of knights in pay,
who defended the abbey and preserved the roads free from robbers, whether
of the baronial or the vulgar class.[161] Until the discipline of laws had
tamed the world into order, force was the only measure of power; and it
was by the sword alone that injuries committed by the sword could be
avenged. The protection of the wronged being a great principle of
chivalry, no oppressed person was at a loss for a mode of redress. Some
gentle knight was ever to be found who would lay his lance in its rest to
chastise the evil doer. While Edward the First was travelling in France,
he heard that a lord of Burgundy was continually committing outrages on
the persons and property of his neighbours. In the true spirit of chivalry
Edward attacked the castle of this uncourteous baron. His prowess asserted
the cause of justice; and he bestowed the domains which he had won upon a
nobler and more deserving lord.[162]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Knights fought the battles of other countries.]
[Sidenote: Englishmen's disgust at Spanish wines.]
When he was neither engaged in his country's wars, nor errant in quest of
adventures, the knight fought among the chivalry of foreign princes. This
was a matter of daily occurrence; the English knights obtaining licences
from the king on their pledging the honour of their chivalry not to
disclose the secrets of the court, nor to fight on the side of the
nation's enemies. It is curious to observe that the service of France was
always preferred by the English adventurers to that of Spain or Portugal.
France, they said, was a good, sweet country, and temperate, possessing
pleasant towns and fair rivers, but Castile was full of barren rocks and
mountains, the air was unwholesome, the waters were troubled, and the
people were poor and evil arrayed. The wines of Spain formed, however, the
principal grievance. The English complained that they were so strong and
fiery as to corrupt their heads, dry their bowels, and consume their very
livers; and what with hot suns and hot wines Englishmen, who in their own
country were sweetly nourished, were in Castile burnt without and within.
There is another passage of Froissart which I shall lay before the reader
in the right genuine and expressive old English of John Bourchier, knight,
Lord Berners. "The Englishmen ate grapes (in Spain) when they might get
them, and drank of the hot wines, and the more they drank the more they
were set on fire, and thereby burnt their livers and lungs; for that diet
was contrary to their nature. Englishmen are nourished with good meats and
with ale, which keep their bodies in temper." In Spain the nights were hot
because of the great heat of the day, and the mornings marvellously cold,
which deceives them; for in the night they could suffer nothing on them,
and so slept all naked, and in the morning cold took them ere they were
aware, and that cast them into fevers and fluxes without remedy, and as
well died great men as mean people.[163]
[Sidenote: Principles of this active conduct.]
All this adventurousness proceeded from the principle, that the life of a
knight was not to be regarded as a course of personal indulgence. His
virtues were of an active, stirring nature, and he was not permitted to
waste his days in dark obscurity, or to revel in ease. Like falcons that
disdained confinement, he could not remain long at rest without wishing to
roam abroad. "Why do we not array ourselves and go and see the bounds and
ports of Normandy?" were the words of war by which our English knights and
squires would rouse one another to arms. "There be knights and squires to
awake us and to fight with us."[164] And Honour was always the quest of
the true knight.
"In woods, in waves, in wars she wont to dwell,
And will be found with peril and with pain;
Nor can the man that moulders in idle cell,
Unto her happy mansion attain.
Before her gate high God did sweat ordain,
And wakeful watchers ever to abide:
But easy is the way and passage plain
To pleasure's palace: it may soon be spide,
And day and night her doors to all stand open wide."[165]
[Sidenote: Knightly independence consistent with discipline.]
It has often been supposed[166] that the chivalric array must have been
inconvenient to the feudal and national disposition of armies, and that
knightly honours would be continually striving with other distinctions for
pre-eminence. But this supposition has arisen from a want of attention to
chivalric principles. Chivalry was not opposed to national institutions;
it was a feeling of honour that pervaded without disturbing society; and
knightly distinctions were altogether independent of ranks in the state.
As every lord was educated in chivalry, he was of course a knight; but he
led his troops into the field in consequence of his feudal possessions;
and any that were attached to his knighthood, it would be in vain to
enquire after. The array of an army was always formed agreeably to the
sageness and imagination of the constable, or marshal, or whatever other
officer of the nation was commander, without the slightest reference to
chivalry. A squire frequently led knights, certainly not on account of his
chivalric title, but by reason of favour or merit, or any other of the
infinity of causes that occasion advancement.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Religion of the knight.]
[Sidenote: His devotion.]
The religion of the knight was generally the religion of the time; and it
would be idle to expect to see religious reformers start from the bands of
an unlettered soldiery, whose swords had been consecrated by the church.
The warrior said many orisons every day; besides a nocturne of the
Psalter, matins of our Lady, of the Holy Ghost, and of the cross, and also
the dirige.[167] The service of the mass was usually performed by both
armies in the presence of each other before a battle; and no warrior would
fight without secretly breathing a prayer to God or a favourite saint.
Brevity was an important feature in a soldier's devotion, as the following
anecdote proves. When the French cavalier, Lahire, had just reached his
army, he met a chaplain, from whom he demanded absolution. The priest
required him to confess his sins. But the knight answered he had not time,
for he wanted immediately to attack the enemy. He added, that a minute
disclosure of his offences was not necessary, for he had only been guilty
of sins common to cavaliers, and the chaplain well knew what those sins
were. The priest thereupon absolved him, and Lahire raised his hands to
heaven, and exclaimed, "God, I pray thee that thou wouldest do to-day for
Lahire as much as thou wouldest Lahire should do for thee, if he were God
and thou wert Lahire." He then dashed spurs into his horse, and his
falchion was stained with foeman's blood before the good chaplain had
recovered from his astonishment at this singular form of prayer. The union
of religion and arms was displayed in a very remarkable manner at a joust
which was held at Berwick, in the year 1338. The lance of an English
knight pierced the helmet of his Scottish opponent, William de Ramsey, and
nailed it to his head. It being instantly perceived that the wound was
mortal, a priest was hastily sent for. The knight was shriven in his helm,
and soon afterwards died, and the good Earl of Derby, who was present, was
so much delighted at the religious and chivalric mode of the Scotsman's
death, that he hoped God of his grace would vouchsafe to send him a
similar end.[168]
The knight visited sacred places, and adopted all the superstitions,
whether mild or terrible, and the full spirit of intolerant fierceness, of
his time. The defence of the church formed part of his obligation.
"Chevaliers en ce monde cy
Ne peuvent vivre sans soucy:
Ils doivent le peuple défendre,
Et leur sang pour la foi espandre."
[Sidenote: His intolerance.]
The knight knew no other argument than the sword to gainsay the infidel,
and he was ready at all times to "thrust it into the belly of a heretic as
far as it would go." This was the feeling in all chivalric times; but St.
Louis was the knight who had the merit of arraying it in the form of a
maxim.
The wars of these soldiers of the church were not purely defensive. The
cavalier fought openly and offensively against heretics. This was part of
the spirit and essence of his character, encouraged by the crusades, and
the principles of the military orders; and thus no knight's military
reputation was perfect, unless it was adorned with laurels which had been
won in Heathennesse as well as in Christendom; for it was the general
opinion, that, as Heaven had chosen learned clerks to maintain the holy
Catholic faith with Scripture and reason against the miscreants and
unbelievers, so knights had also been chosen, in order that the miscreants
might be vanquished by force of arms.[169]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: General nature of his virtue.]
The highest possible degree of virtue was required of a knight: it was a
maxim in chivalry, that he who ordained another a knight must be virtuous
himself; for it was argued if the knight who made a knight were not
virtuous, how could he give that which he had not; and no man could be a
true son of chivalry unless he were of unsullied life.[170] He was not
only to be virtuous, but without reproach; for he considered his
honourable fame as a polished mirror, whose beauty may be lost by an
impure breath and an unwholesome air, as well as by being broken into
pieces. But there was nothing so abstract and refined in the nature of
knightly virtue as has been generally thought. It was the duty of the
cavalier to peril himself in the cause of the afflicted and of the church;
and his exertions and endeavours to perform the conditions of his oath of
chivalry were to be rewarded, not by the mere gratification of any
metaphysical fancies, but by the hope of joy in heaven. This was the
leading principle of his duty, however often it might be abused or
forgotten; and this was the feeling which his oath taught him to
encourage. But it did not exclude from his conduct the operation of
personal motives. Thus, in displaying his love of justice, he displayed
his chivalric skill; and by the same action he gratified his laudable
aspirations for fame, and soothed and satisfied his conscience.
Certes all knights were not religious, even in the sense in which religion
was understood in chivalric times. One cavalier made it his heart's boast
that he had burnt a church, with twenty-four monks, its contents.[171] The
joyousness of youth often broke out in witty sentences, and the sallies of
the buoyant spirits of the young cavalier were neither decent nor moral.
When his imagination was inflamed by chivalry and love, he forgot his
rosary, and said that paradise was only the habitation of dirty monks,
priests, and hermits; and that, for his own part, he preferred the
thoughts of going to the devil; and, in his fiery kingdom, he was sure of
the society of kings, knights, squires, minstrels, and jugglers, and,
above all the rest, the mistress of his heart.[172]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Fidelity to obligations.]
Of his moral virtues perfect fidelity to a promise was very conspicuous,
for his nobleness disdained any compromise with convenience or
circumstances. However absurd the vow, still he was compelled to perform
it in all the strictness of the letter. Notwithstanding the obvious
inconveniences of such a course, a man frequently promised to grant
whatever another should ask; and he would have lost the honour of his
knighthood, if he had declined from his word when the wish of him to whom
the promise had been made was stated. Sir Charles du Blois promised Sir
Loyes of Spain whatever gift he might require for the service he had
rendered him. "Then," said Sir Loyes, "I require you to cause the two
knights that are in prison in Favet to be brought hither, and give them to
me to do with them at my pleasure, for they have injured me, and slain my
nephew. I will strike their heads off before the town, in sight of their
companions." Sir Charles was obliged to comply and deliver up the knights;
only remonstrating with Sir Loyes on the cruelty of putting two such
valiant knights to death, and on the impolicy of such a measure, as giving
occasion to their enemies of dealing in a similar manner with them when
the fortune of war changed her face.[173]
[Sidenote: Generousness.]
[Sidenote: Singular instance of it.]
There was a generousness about chivalry unknown to other warfare. If in
these days of improved jurisprudence we revert our eyes with horror and
contempt to times when every question was decided by the sword, still an
air of graceful courtesy hung over them, which charms the imagination. A
cavalier always granted safe-conduct through his territories to all who
required it, even to those who asserted pretensions, which, if
established, would deprive him of his possessions. When Matilda landed
near Arundel, to contend for the throne of England, Stephen gave her
honourable conduct to the castle of his brother, the Earl of
Gloucester.[174] This instance of chivalric generousness seems scarcely
credible to those who view ancient times by the light of modern
prejudices. It was not the passive virtue that declined to profit by any
mischance happening to an adversary, but it was one knight drawing the
sword, and placing it in the hands of his foe.
[Sidenote: Romantic excess of it.]
More full in its circumstances, and equally romantic in its character, is
the following tale. About the year 1388, Sir Peter Courtenay, an English
knight of approved valiancy, went to France in order to joust with the
renowned Sir Guy of Tremouille. They ran one course with spears, and the
king then stopped the martial game, saying that each had done enough. He
made the stranger-knight fair presents, and set him on his way to Calais,
under the care of the Lord of Clary, who is characterised by our old
chivalric chronicler as a lusty and frisky knight. They rode together till
they reached Lucen, where resided the Countess of St. Poule, sister of the
King of England, and whose first husband had been a Lord of Courtenay.
During the noble entertainment with which she greeted her guests, the
Countess enquired of Sir Peter his opinion of France. He complimented the
country in most of its forms, and praised the demeanour of the French
chivalry, except in one thing, for he complained that none of their
knights would do any deed of arms with him, although he had with great
trouble and cost left England to encounter them. The Lord of Clary heard
with pain the knights of his country reviled, in the presence of the
sister of the King of England; but he restrained his feelings, because Sir
Peter was then under his protection.
The next day they took their leave of the Countess, who, like a noble
lady, threw a chain of gold round the neck of each. They proceeded to
Calais, and when they reached the frontier, and Sir Peter stepped on the
English territory, the Lord of Clary reminded him of the language he had
used at the board of the Countess St. Poule, regarding the French
chivalry, and added, that such an opinion was not courteous nor honorable,
and that simple knight as he was he would do his devoir to answer him,
saying, however, that he was influenced not by any hatred to his person,
but the desire of maintaining the honor of French knighthood.
Accordingly they jousted in the marshes of Calais, in the presence of
noble cavaliers and squires of the two nations. In the second course the
lance of Lord Clary pierced the shoulder of Sir Peter, and the wounded
knight was led to the neighbouring town. The Lord of Clary returned to
Paris, proud that he had vindicated the chivalric honor of his country,
and expecting praise. But when it was reported that a strange knight,
travelling under the royal safeguard, had been required to do a deed of
arms, the king and his council felt alarmed, lest the honor of their
nation had received a stain. It was also thought that the joust had been
intentionally a mortal one, a matter which aggravated the offence. The
Lord of Clary was summoned before them, and interrogated how he had
presumed to be so outrageous, as to hold a joust to the utterance with a
knight-stranger that had come to the king's court for good love and to
exalt his honor, to do feats of arms, and had departed thence with good
love and joy, and to the intent that he should not be troubled in his
return, he had been delivered to his charge.
The Lord of Clary, in reply, simply related his tale, and instead of
deprecating the anger of his liege lord, he claimed reward for his
vindication of the French chivalry. He said he would abide the judgment of
the constable and the high marshal of France, the knights and squires of
honor in every land; and so highly did he esteem the chivalry of that
noble knight himself, Sir Peter Courtenay, that he would appeal to his
voice and discretion.
Notwithstanding this defence, the Lord of Clary was committed to prison,
nor was he delivered thence till after a long time, when the entreaties of
the Countess of St. Poule, the Lord of Bourbon, the Lord of Coucy, and
other nobles, prevailed with the king. He was dismissed with this reproof
and exhortation: "Sir of Clary, you supposed that you had done right well,
howbeit you acted shamefully, when you offered to do arms with Sir Peter
Courtenay, who was under the king's safeguard, and delivered to you to
conduct to Calais. You did a great outrage when you renewed the words,
which were spoken only in sport before the Countess of St. Poule. Before
you had so renewed them, you ought to have returned to the king, and then
what counsel the king had given, you should have followed; because you did
not this, you have suffered pain. Beware better another time, and thank
the Lord of Bourbon and the Lord of Coucy for your deliverance, for they
earnestly solicited for you, and also thank the Lady of St. Poule."[175]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Liberality.]
The virtue of liberality seems to have been a striking feature of the
chivalric character. It proceeded from that loftiness of spirit which felt
that avarice would have debased a heroism that should contend for crowns
and kingdoms. The minstrels of the times, who kept alive the flame of
chivalry, encouraged this virtue above all others, for upon it depended
their own subsistence. But it often sprang from better motives than pride
or vanity. The good Lord de Foix gave every day five florins, in small
money, at his gate, to poor folks, for the love of God; and he was liberal
and courteous in his gifts to others; for he had certain coffers in his
chambers, out of which he would oft-times take money to give to lords,
knights, and squires, such as came to him, and none departed from him
without a gift.[176] A knight, indeed, was taught to consider nothing his
own, save his horse and arms, which he ought to keep as his means of
acquiring honour, by using them in the defence of his religion and
country, and of those who were unable to defend themselves.[177]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Humility.]
The valiancy of chivalry was beautifully chastened by humility;
"And of his port as meek as is a maid."
Every hero, as well as Chaucer's knight, demeaned himself in all things as
if he had been in the hands of God, and in his name used his arms,
without vaunting or praising himself; for praise was regarded as blame in
the mouth of him who commended his own actions. It was thought that if the
squire had vain-glory of his arms, he was not worthy to be a knight, for
vain-glory was a vice which destroyed the merits and the claims of
chivalry.
The heroes of the Round Table were the mirror of all Christian knights;
and the generous modesty of Sir Lancelot was reflected in the conduct of
many a true soldier of chivalry. In the lofty fancies of romantic Europe
that valiant friend of Arthur was the prowest of all the heroes of
Britain; yet he always gave place to Sir Tristram, and often retired from
the field of tournament when that noble son of arms was performing his
devoir. Even when he was entitled to the prize, Sir Lancelot would not
receive it, maugre the offering of king, queen, and knights; but when the
cry was great through the field, "Sir Lancelot, Sir Lancelot hath won the
field, this day!" that noble subject of praise cried, on the contrary,
"Sir Tristram hath won the field; for he began first, and endured last,
and so hath he done the first day, the second, and the third day."[178]
[Sidenote: Courtesy.]
The catalogue of knightly virtues is not yet complete; and nothing can be
more beautiful to the moral eye than some of the characteristics of the
ancient chivalry. Kindness and gentleness of manner, which, when adopted
by kings from knightly customs, were called courtesy, were peculiar to the
soldier of the middle ages, and pleasingly distinguished him from the
savage sternness of other warriors, whether Roman or barbarian. Courtesy
was the appearance, in the ordinary circumstances of life, of that
principle of protection which, in weightier matters, made the sword leap
from its scabbard; and, like every other blessing of modern times, it had
its origin in the Christian religion. The world thought that courtesy and
chivalry accorded together, and that villainous and foul words were
contrary to an order which was founded on piety.[179] Whether historians
or fabulists speak of a true knight, he is always called gentle and
courteous. To be debonnaire was as necessary as to be bold;
"Preux chevalier n'en doutez pas,
Doit ferir hault et parler bas."[180]
The following anecdote curiously marks the manners of chivalric ages with
relation to the quality of courtesy:--The wife and sister of Du Guesclin
were once living in a castle which was attacked and taken by a force of
Normans and Englishmen. The success was great and important; but public
indignation was excited against the invaders, because they had
transgressed the licence of war, and been guilty of the uncourteous action
of surprizing and disturbing ladies while they were asleep.[181]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Every-day life of the knight.]
[Sidenote: Falconry.]
These military and moral qualities of knighthood were sustained and
nourished by all the circumstances of chivalric life, even those of a
peaceful nature. Hunting and falconry, the amusements of the cavalier,
were images of war, and he threw over them a grace beyond the power of
mere baronial rank. Dames and maidens accompanied him to the sport of
hawking, when the merry bugles sounded to field; and it was the pleasing
care of every gallant knight to attend on his damsel, and on her bird
which was so gallantly bedight; to let the falcon loose at the proper
moment, to animate it by his cries, to take from its talons the prey it
had seized, to return with it triumphantly to his lady, and, placing the
hood on its eyes, to set it again on her hand. Every true knight could
say, like the cavalier in Spenser,
"Ne is there hawk which mantleth her on perch,
Whether high towering or accosting low,
But I the measure of her flight do search,
And all her prey and all her diet know."
These amusements of every-day life were always mingling themselves with
the humanities of war. Edward III., when in France, in the year 1359, was
attended by sixty couple of dogs, and by thirty falconers, on horseback,
carrying birds. Various barons in the army had their dogs and birds with
them, like the king. During the reign of Richard II., when the Duke of
Lancaster was in France and Spain, many ladies accompanied the army, for
the objects of the expedition were not altogether military; pleasure was
as much the occupation as affairs of moment, and for the space of a month
or more the Duke lay at Cologne, and removed not, except it were hunting
or hawking; for the Duke and other lords of England had brought with them
hawks and hounds for their own sport, and sparrow-hawks for the
ladies.[182]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Chess-playing.]
To play the game of chess, to hear the minstrel's lays, and read romances,
were the principal amusements of the knight when the season and the
weather did not permit hawking and hunting. A true knight was a
chess-player, and the game was played in every country of chivalry; for
as the chivalric states of midland Europe obtained a knowledge of it from
the Scandinavians, so the southern states acquired it from the Arabs.
"When they had dined, as I you say,
Lords and ladies went to play;
Some to tables, and some to chess,
With other games more and less."[183]
[Sidenote: Story of knights' love of chess.]
The fondness of our ancestors for the game of chess appears by the
frequent mention of the amusement in the ancient romances. Sometimes a
lover procured admittance to the place where his mistress was confined, by
permitting the jailor to win from him a game at chess. Again, the
minstrels in the baronial hall, spread over their subject all the riches
of their imagination. They were wont to fancy the enchanted castle of a
beautiful fairy, who challenged a noble knight to play with her at chess.
Flags of white and black marble formed the chequer, and the pieces
consisted of massive statues of gold and silver, which moved at the touch
of a magic wand held by the player. Such fables show the state of manners:
but a curious story remains on historical record, which displays the
practical consequences of chess-playing. During part of the reign of our
Edward III. the town and castle of Evreux were French. A noble knight of
the neighbourhood, named Sir William Graville, who was secretly attached
to the English side, thought he could win the place, and he formed his
scheme on his knowledge of the governor's character. He first gained some
friends among the burgesses, who were not very strongly attached to the
French cause. As he had not declared himself the friend of either party,
he was permitted to walk in whatever quarters of the city he chose, and
one day he loitered before the gate of the castle till he attracted the
attention of the governor. They saluted each other, and conversed awhile
on the topics of the season. Sir William found his auditor credulous to
every tale, till, when he had told one of wondrous improbability, the
governor demanded his authority. "Sir," replied the knight of Graville, "a
cavalier of Flanders wrote this to me on the pledge of his honour, and
sent with the letter the goodliest chess-men I ever saw."
The governor dropped all care for the story at the mention of chess-men,
and he anxiously desired to see them.
"I will send for them," said Sir William, "on condition that you will play
a game with me for the wine."
The governor assented, and Sir William desired his squire to fetch the
chess-men and bring them to the gate.
The two knights then passed through two wickets into the castle yard; and
while the stranger was viewing the edifice, his faithful squire ran at
speed to the burgesses' houses, and summoned them to arms. They soon
donned their harness and repaired with him to the castle gate, where,
agreeably to a concerted scheme, he sounded a horn.
When Sir William heard it, he said to the governor, "Let us go out of the
second gate, for the chess-men are arrived." Sir William passed the
wicket, and remained without. In following him the governor stooped and
put out his head. Sir William drew a small battle-axe from under his
cloak, and therewith smote to death his defenceless foe. He then opened
the first gate, the burgesses entered in numerous and gallant array, and
incontinently the castle was taken.[184]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Minstrelsy.]
The minstrel's lay, the poetry of the troubadour, the romance of the
learned clerk, all spoke of war and love, of the duties and sports of
chivalry. Every baronial knight had his gay troop of minstrels that
accompanied him to the field, and afterwards chaunted in his hall, whether
in their own or another's verse, the martial deeds which had renowned his
house. A branch of the minstrelsy art consisted of reciting tales; and
such persons as practised it were called jesters.
"I warn you first at the beginning,
That I will make no vain carping
Of deeds of arms nor of amours
As do minstrelles and jestours,
That make carping in many a place
Of Octoviane and Isembrase,
And of many other jestes,
And namely when they come to festes;
Nor of the life of Bevis of Hampton,
That was a knight of great renown;
Nor of Sir Guy of Warwick,
All if it might some men like."[185]
Minstrels played on various musical instruments during dinner, and
chaunted or recited their verses and tales afterwards both in the hall,
and in the chamber to which the barons and knights retired for amusement.
"Before the king he set him down,
And took his harp of merry soun,
And, as he full well can,
Many merry notes he began.
The king beheld, and sat full still,
To hear his harping he had good will.
When he left off his harping,
To him said that rich king,
Minstrel, me liketh well thy glee,
What thing that thou ask of me
Largely I will thee pay;
Therefore ask now and asay."[186]
A minstrel's lay generally accompanied the wine and spices which concluded
the entertainment.[187] Kings and queens had their trains of songsters,
and partly from humour and partly from contempt, the head of the band was
called king of the minstrels.[188] But men of the first quality,
particularly the younger sons and brothers of great houses, followed the
profession of minstrelsy, and no wonder, if it be true that they gained
the guerdon without having encountered the dangers of war; for many a
doughty knight complained that the smiles for which he had perilled
himself in the battle field were bestowed upon some idle son of peace at
home. The person of a minstrel was sacred, and base and barbarian the man
would have been accounted, who did not venerate him that sang the heroic
and the tender lay, the magic strains of chivalry, and could shed a
romantic lustre over fierce wars and faithful loves.
"In days of yore how fortunately fared
The minstrel! wandering on from hall to hall,
Baronial court or royal; cheered with gifts
Munificent, and love, and ladies' praise:
Now meeting on his road an armed knight,
Now resting with a pilgrim by the side
Of a clear brook: beneath an abbey's roof
One evening sumptuously lodg'd; the next
Humbly, in a religious hospital;
Or with some merry outlaws of the wood;
Or haply shrouded in a hermit's cell.
Him, sleeping or awake, the robber spared;
He walk'd--protected from the sword of war
By virtue of that sacred instrument
His harp, suspended at the traveller's side;
His dear companion wheresoe'er he went,
Opening from land to land an easy way
By melody, and by the charm of verse."[189]
Every page of early European history attests the sacred consideration of
the minstrel, and the romances are full of stories, which at least our
imagination can credit, of many a knight telling his soft tale in the
dress of a love-singing poet. That dress had another claim to respect, for
it was fashioned like a sacerdotal robe, as we learn from the story of two
itinerant priests gaining admittance to a monastery, on the supposition of
their being minstrels; but as soon as the fraud was discovered the poor
ecclesiastics were beaten and driven from the monastery by their happier
brethren.[190] The minstrel also was often arrayed in a dress of
splendour, given to him by a baron in a moment of joyous generosity. The
Earl of Foix, after a great festival, gave to heralds and minstrels the
sum of five hundred franks; and he gave to the minstrels of his guest, the
Duke of Tourrain, gowns of cloth of gold, furred with ermine, valued at
two hundred franks.[191]
[Sidenote: Romances.]
There were other classes of poets in days of chivalry, who, under the
names of troubadours, trouveurs, and minnesingers, were spread over all
chivalric countries, and sang the qualities by which a knight could render
himself agreeable to his mistress. The board of a baron was sometimes
enlivened by a tenson, or dialogue in verse, on the comparative merits of
love and war; and the argument was often supported by warmer feelings than
those which could influence a hireling rhymer, for the harp of the
troubadour was borne by kings, and lords, and knights. The romances, or
poems longer than the minstrels' or troubadour lay, were also faithful
ministers of chivalry. All their heroes were advocates of the church, and
enemies of the Saracens and pagans. The perilous adventures of the Gothic
knights, their high honor, tender gallantry, and solemn superstition were
all recorded in romances[192], and there was not a bay window in a
baronial hall without its chivalric volume, with which knights and
squires drove away the lazy hours of peace.
The fictitious tales of Arthur and Charlemagne were the study and
amusement of the warrior in his moments of ease, and even the few relics
of classical literature, which, after the Gothic storm, were cast on the
shores of modern Europe, were fashioned anew by chivalry. The heroes of
Troy were converted into knights, and Troilus and Cressida moved like a
warrior and damsel of chivalric times. Indeed, as the tale of Troy Divine
was occasioned by a lady, it blended very readily with the established
fictions of the times. And the romancers, like the minstrels and
troubadours, were highly favoured by the great, who knew that their
actions, unless recorded by _clerc_, could have no duration, and therefore
they often made handsome presents to authors in order to have their names
recorded in never-dying histories.[193]
[Sidenote: Conversation.]
The conversation of knights, like their lives and literature, related only
to love and war.
"Then were the tables taken all away,
And every knight, and every gentle squire,
Gan choose his dame with _basciomani_[194] gay,
With whom he meant to make his sport and play,
* * * * *
Some fell to dance; some fell to hazardry;
Some to make love; some to make merriment."
Every knight was welcome at another knight's castle, if it were only for
the intelligence he could communicate regarding the deeds of arms that
had been done in the countries which he had visited; and the great charm
of the castle of the Earl of Foix, to the imagination of Froissart, was
the goodly company of knights and squires of honor, pages and damsels,
that he met in the hall, chamber, and court, going up and down, and
talking of arms and amours.[195]
"After meat they went to play,
All the people, as I you say;
Some to chamber, and some to bower,
And some to the high tower,
And some in the hall stode,
And spake what them thought gode;
Men that were of that cytè,
Enquired of men of other contrè."[196]
[Sidenote: Nature and forms of chivalric entertainments.]
Knights were wont, at these entertainments, to repose on couches, or sit
on benches. The guests were placed two by two, and only one plate was
allotted to each pair; for to eat on the same trencher or plate with any
one was considered the strongest mark of friendship or love.[197] Peacocks
and pheasants were the peculiar food of knights on great and festival
occasions; they were said to be the nutriment of lovers, and the viand of
worthies. The peacock was as much esteemed in chivalric as in classic
times; and as Jupiter clothed himself with a robe made of that bird's
feathers, so Pope Paul, sending to King Pepin a sword, in sign of true
regard, accompanied it with a mantle ornamented with a peacock's plumes.
The highest honours were conferred on these birds; for knights associated
them with all their ideas of fame, and vowed by the peacock, as well as by
the ladies, to perform their highest enterprises. A graceful splendour
often characterised the circumstances in which the vow of the pheasant or
peacock was made.
On a day of public festival, and between the courses of the repast, a
troop of ladies brought into the assembly a peacock, or a pheasant,
roasted in its feathers, in a golden or silver dish.[198] The hall was
adorned with scenes, and wooden or other semblances of men, animals, or
nature, all being expressive of the object for which the vow of the
peacock was to be taken. If the promotion of religious wars was in view, a
matron, clad in habiliments of woe, entered the room, and, approaching the
dais, or lofty seat, which the chief lords and knights surrounded, she
recited a long complaint, in verse, on the evils she suffered under the
yoke of infidels, and complained of the tardiness of Europe in attempting
her deliverance. Some knights then advanced, to the sound of solemn
minstrelsy, to the lord of the castle, and presented two ladies, who bore
between them the noble bird, in its splendid dish. In a brief speech the
ladies recommended themselves to his protection. The lord promised to make
war upon the infidels, and sanctioned his resolution by appealing to God
and the Virgin Mary, the ladies and the peacock. All the knights who were
in the hall drew their swords and repeated the vow; and, while bright
falchions and ladies' eyes illumined the scene, each knight, inflamed by
thoughts of war and love, added some new difficulty to the enterprise, or
bound himself, by grievous penalties, to achieve it. Sometimes a knight
vowed that he would be the first to enter the enemy's territory. Others
vowed that they would not sleep in beds, nor eat off a cloth, nor drink
wine, till they had been delivered of their emprise. The dish was then
placed upon the table, and the lord of the festival deputed some renowned
knight to carve it in such a manner that every guest might taste the bird.
While he was exercising his talents of carving and subdivision, a lady,
dressed in white, came to thank the assembly, presenting twelve damsels,
each conducted by a cavalier. These twelve represented, by emblematical
dresses, Faith, Charity, Justice, Reason, Prudence, Temperance, Strength,
Generosity, Mercy, Diligence, Hope, and Courage. This bevy of bright
damsels trooped round the hall, amidst the applauses of the assembly, and
then the repast proceeded.[199]
* * * * *
These were the military, the religious, and the social qualities of a
preux chevalier. The gentler feelings of his heart will be best delineated
in the next chapter; and, as we have seen him adventurous and imaginative,
so we shall find him amorous and true.[200]